


Rising Sun

by BooksandRoses268



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Dark Castle, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-04-30 19:22:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5176769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BooksandRoses268/pseuds/BooksandRoses268
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few drabbles on Belle's time at the Dark Castle and how she fell in love...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Their Story

_Strange girl_

It's the first thing he observes about her. Where any other noble (anyone with sense, really) would have let him walk away (it's not the princess's job to worry about these things), she makes her own choice, makes her own deal (with a beast, no less) to go with him, not a thought for herself, only other's good in mind. Ironic, really, says she decides her own fate, then chooses one which puts her in another's thrall. Seems she will always be someone's prize, whatever her choice. Walks away with him with barely a backwards glance, though he can tell she's afraid.

_Brave little thing_

Brave, yes, but foolish. He is a monster, after all. Everyone knows you should fear the Dark One (with good reason, too) .This princess, apparently, has not learnt that lesson. It is a novelty, her fearlessness, it intrigues him. He tries to scare her, at first (a monster has to think of his image, after all) . But she is never more than startled, sometimes she is just exasperated, or amused ( by the Dark One ). She never seems to stay away, though, so he gives up ( maybe he doesn't want to, anymore?)

_Clumsy, clumsy_

She didn't believe him, did she? Even he, whatever he had done, had never hurt a child. And if she thinks him that much of a monster and can still be brave, he marvels at her. What does she expect him to do, over something not even really her fault? He was not lying,it was just a cup. Or at least,it used to be.

_Curious girl_

Even as she walks away with him, he searches her eyes for fear but cannot find it. There is curiosity instead. Blue eyes alight, head cocked to the side. It gets her into trouble, more often than not. He can't really bring himself to mind, until she hurts herself. He tries to warn her. Doesn't do much good.

_A ray of light_

He realizes it as he catches her in front of the now-open window (and who exactly is she, who dares to flood the Dark Castle with light?). She belongs here, this girl, hair lit by the sun, sapphire eyes like faceted gems in the light. No matter how he keeps her caged (he is selfish, he knows) ,the light knows its own, draws her close. And he watches from the dark ( he belongs there,after all ). and he keeps away, because his darkness will always chase away light ( it did before, and he is still trying to fix that)

_Stubborn girl!_

Why, why couldn't she leave his buisness well enough alone! That man had tried to steal from him! He had every right to punish him, just as he pleased. How dare his maid let him escape. She thinks, the naive girl, that the man is honorable, noble. He will teach her otherwise, soon enough. She'll know that the world doesn't have her goodness. And if it is true that anyone else in her position would not have lived to argue with him, he doesn't give too much thought to the matter

_Smart woman_

She corrects him, once. It is an idle mistake, but the extent of her knowledge amazes him, even if it is insignificant compared to his own. He has three centuries on her, yet she matches him, quip for quip. It has been a long time since he has met anyone but flatterers and fools. A welcome distraction, a breath of fresh air.

_A bookworm_

She loves books, loves the tales and the knowledge, the worlds between the pages. He sees her so lost, and even he has the heart not to to interrupt her. He has taken everything from her, but even he will not take away her only escape.

_...OOOOO_

_Odd creature_

He enters the throne room with a show. A word and a smile from him silences the room, strikes fear in their hearts. She could see how scaly skin and dirty claws might make one afraid. The most powerful man in all the realms. Yet, so..child-like in his delight, the way his hands never stilled. even as she sensed the power just below the surface. She can go, if that is what he wants, but he will get more than he bargained for. She will make sure of that.

_Funny imp_

In the war room she would have laughed had she not feared offending him. That is what surprises her the most. However morbid, he has a sense of humor, He seems surprised when she laughs. Like no-one has laughed with him for a long time, and he relishes the feeling. It makes her heart ache for him.

_A mystery_

He wears his magic like armor, showing the world only the worst of himself. She has always seen past fake smiles and honeyed words ( she is a noble ), but he shows only the worst of himself. He has too many layers to count, each tougher than the last, yet she wishes to peel them away, one by one, and see what he so ferociously guards. She loves puzzles, and just there, she sees something more. The awkward pauses, hints of kindness (behind her back, of course ) she sees, and she wonders...

_Lonely man_

What use is magic , if it cannot maintain a castle? She can see he wishes for company, but is too stubborn (afraid?) to ask it. She doesn't mind ; she doesn't need to be asked. She enjoys his company, however he might think otherwise.

_Kind_

She all but gives her life into his hands, he never raises a hand to her in anger. She can calm him with a few words, when he is not too angry. He spared that man, whatever he says. It proves what she already knows, even if he refuses to believe it himself.

...OOOOO

No wonder they fall in love...


	2. Spinning Regrets

_He really spends too much time on that wheel_ , Belle muses to herself.

She is dusting some of Rumpelstiltskin's collection in the Great Hall. The trinkets and baubles are fascinating, especially to a nature as naturally curious and adventurous as her own. She has often wondered about the stories behind each piece, and how each came to be a part of a collection that is the result of three centuries of deal making. But she has studied the collection before, and now the same curiosity leads her thoughts to the man ( for she refuses to believe he is anything else) who sits at the spinning wheel in the corner, both his skin and the gold he spins glimmering in the light from the now-open window, forever at the task of spinning gold that has no value to him whatsoever.

_To forget_ , he had said.

Yet he refuses to tell her what exactly it is that he doesn't want to remember. What memory could be so painful that he has spun gold enough for twenty lifetimes just to keep it from his mind?

In her life before the Dark Castle, she has heard a million stories of the Dark One. It is said that he steals babes in the night, kills without remorse, feasts on human flesh. And he certainly does not regret any past actions.

In her time here (has it really only been a few months?), she has seen more sides of him than he has shown to anyone in a long time. She knows, now, that these stories are just that; tales woven by people to warn away from something they do not understand,( she didn't exactly _believe_ the tales, even before, but now she is sure).

_She is getting off-track_ , she realizes, as she replaces a vase on a pedestal, and sneaks a quick look at him as he works. He either doesn't notice, or chooses to ignore her. She doesn't really mind. While she loves their conversations, at the moment she wishes to concentrate on the puzzle she is trying to solve.

Where was she? Oh yes, regrets. He must regret something, to want to forget it. She can see how the wheel might help; she herself loves the soft, rhythmatic, almost hypnotic sound that often lulls her to sleep. She wants to know what it is that he regrets so, and is startled to realize that it isn't merely curiosity. She wants to know so that she can...comfort him? No-one else, all across the vast realms, she knows, would feel the same. Her Papa would think her crazy, were he to know what she is thinking at this moment But even as the doubt rises in her mind, she knows her earlier thought to be true. Strange and odd she might be, but she cares for the Dark One (no, for _Rumpelstiltskin_ ), and if the time ever comes that he should trust her enough to tell his tale, she will do everything in her power to comfort him.

That is a promise.


	3. Roses

"Slacking on the job, now are we, Dearie? Staring out of the window isn't going to get you home, you know."

Belle is standing at the window of the Great Hall as Rumpelstiltskin makes this comment. Since he has not put the curtains back up, just as he had said, she often puts the view to good use whenever she has a spare moment. However, more time must have passed than she realized, for him to have entered the room without her noticing and be standing just behind her as he spoke.

She turns and greets him with a small smile.

"I wasn't thinking of home, actually."

And her words are true: her thoughts had not been on her father's castle, the place she has called home for almost nineteen years. Sometimes she wonders if this is wrong, the fact that she thinks less of her former home every day. Of course the memory of her father is still fresh, but even as he so casually mentions his castle, she feels little more than an echo of her former grief, a vague sense of sadness.

Rumple merely makes a face, it is obvious that he doesn't believe her. Only a few weeks ago, she had been crying herself to sleep every night over the loss of her family and friends, and now her thoughts do not wander to them even as she gazes out of the window at the freedom just out of her reach? He finds that hard to believe. And it is not like he has done anything to lessen her loss. He has done nothing to make her feel welcome here. He pushes the thought away, her being happy here is none of his concern.

'"No, I was just wondering how nice it would be if you had some flowers. Roses, maybe?"

She has always loved roses ;the garden where her mother had planted bushes of every color to be found, had always been her reminder of her, the place where she could still feel her the most. Why she wanted the Dark Castle to resemble a place she loved and cherished, was something she could not and did not wish to fully understand.

He stares for a moment; completely flabbergasted, then bursts into laughter, not his usual maniacal giggle but a real, genuine laugh that Belle has only had the pleasure of hearing on a few rare occasions.

"Really, dearie? That's the first lie that comes to your mind? Roses?"

She gives him a look. She does not lie, and is about to make her opinion very clear on the matter when he interrupts.

"Roses, did you say dearie? Well..."

And he gives an elegant little flick of the wrist.

She doesn't know quite what she expected, though this is certainly not it. At his behest, a green shoot appears from the ground near the window as she watches, awestruck. No matter how much magic she sees him perform, she can never quite get used to the power that he wields so easily. He titters a little at her expression.

The newly-grown creeper climbs the wall until it is just above the window frame, then bursts into bloom as a single rose, white as new-fallen snow, with the lightest blush of dawn pink at the edges.

Belle watches, fascinated, as he leans forward. The glass disappears and he carelessly plucks the bloom.

He holds the flower for a moment, unsure, though his expression gives nothing away. She had wanted roses. But surely she would not accept one from _him_? A little late to be worrying about that, he thinks and silently curses before turning to her.

He presents the flower with a bow and a flourish, and she accepts, curtsying gracefully in return.

The magic of the moment lingers, before he shoos her away.

"Now, dearie, back to work.."

"Thank you!"

And she darts off, eyes twinkling, a smile at her lips, and the rose held protectively in her grasp

Leaving him motionless, wishing he had had courage enough to colour the rose red.


	4. Tale as Old as Time

_A tale as old as time, true as it can be_

"My price is...her."

"I will go with you. Forever."

_Barely even friends_

"My room?!"

"Well, it sounds a lot better than dungeon!"

_Then somebody bends_

"Its just a cup.."

.-.-.-.

"For me?"

"Not so beastly now, am I?"

_Unexpectedly_

"What happened?"

"I missed."

_Just a little change, small to say the least_

"Temper your excitement, dearie. Just another room for you to clean. _"_

"Did you do all this for me?"

_Both a little scared, neither one prepared_

"I fall for the help?!"

_Certain as the sun, rising in the east_

"I'll, uh, put the curtains back up."

"No need. I'll get used to it."

_Ever just the same, ever a surprise_

"If I can't know another person my whole life, can't I at least know you?"

"You had a life before this, Belle. Friends. Family. What made you come here with me?"

_Ever as before, ever just as sure_

"You're not a monster, Rumple." _  
_

_Bittersweet and strange, finding you can change_

"What are you smiling at?"

"You're not who I thought you were. And I'm glad."

_Learning you were wrong_

"I came because you're right. I am a coward. I've been one my whole life."

_Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme_

"Rumplestiltskin, wait. I remember. I love you."

_Beauty and the Beast_

"You are a beautiful woman, who loved an ugly man. Really, really loved me. You make me want to go back to the best version of me. And that's never happened before."


	5. A Former Princess

Apparently , when Rumpelstiltskin had brought a princess to be his maid, he hadn't quite thought things through. To be honest, he had brought her more as entertainment than a maid, but he had forgotten one small, rather important detail; however eager to learn and sweet-tempered a princess might be, she has probably never made a cup of tea in her life.

And as such, his commands don't have quite the results he expected.

_You will serve me my meals_

''Dearie, what are you doing?"

He'd been waiting for quite a while. He'd known the girl probably wouldn't know how to cook anything remotely edible, having been pampered her whole life and all, but watching her fidget as she admits the fact might be fun. The smell of smoke, however, has him out of his chair and in the kitchen, swearing under his breath.

Belle is desperately trying to figure out how to move through the smoke, reaching for a tray from the oven. Obviously flustered, her cheeks pink, hair disheveled, coughing slightly.

The scene he meets has him shaking with laughter, despite the fact that his kitchen is filled with smoke, which he clears with a wave of his hand.

She turns around as she spots him, and states the obvious.

"I didn't know how long to cook it."

The next day, she finds a cookbook on the kitchen table.

_You will clean the Dark Castle_

In the girl's time here, he has become used to hearing her move about the castle (not that he'd been listening, or anything), and today he notices that she is working on the front steps from the sounds of water she carries in the pail. Since she won't be working in the Great Hall today, he heads upstairs to his tower.

Her scream brings him down, the phial in his hand teetering precariously on the edge of the table as he vanishes.

She is lying at the bottom of the staircase, and for a moment he fears the worst and something in him twists.

Then she lets out a breath, and he is at her side in an instant.

"What happened?"

He is much too concerned, a part of him says, but he ignores it completely.

She is obviously in pain, and trying not to show it, and a feeling he cannot understand passes through him. All he knows is that it causes his chest to constrict and his breath to catch in his lungs. It is a feeling long forgotten.

" I slipped, that's all, from the third step. I think I twisted my ankle."

Of course, the steps must have been wet still and his maid is accident-prone as it is.

"Hold still."

She thanks him as the pain vanishes with the smoke of his magic.

"It's no matter."

And he doesn't know quite what to do with his hands anymore, now that he is no longer helping her.

He wonders if her smile has always been so radiant.

She wonders if he left in the middle of a potion or spell, to arrive just as she had been hurt.

He never lets her clean the stairs again. His magic must be good for something.

_You will dust my collection_

He is already in a foul mood.

He cannot understand why people make deals if they are not willing to pay the price. He may have been known as a trickster, but he makes sure his terms are clear and specific. It is not his fault if people are willing to make deals they don't understand.

He appears in the Great Hall as she is replacing a clay vase on its pedestal.

She is started, still not used to having someone appear out of thin air behind her, and the vase slips, escaping her grip as she tries to grab for it and shatterg into pieces on the stone floor.

His anger, held barely in check as it is, explodes on the girl.

"Dearie , do you know how old that was? It was worth more than the whole of your puny village! I should just turn you into a snail and be done with it!"

He takes a step forward with every word he says, until he is standing directly in front of her. He raises his hand, and for a brief moment, true fear flickers in her cerulean eyes.

It is gone as soon as it appears, and she faces him directly again, but there is no need. He has already stepped back, understanding just what she had been afraid of.

"You were afraid I was going to hit you."

It is not a question to be answered.

It is he who looks away first, and his tone is low as he speaks.

"It will not happen again."

The shards of the two hundred year old vase disappear off the floor and are never touched by him again _._

_You will launder my clothing_

He is spinning when she enters, and one look at her face has him on his feet in an instant.

"What did you do? "

Oddly enough, there is more worry than anger in his voice, but she doesn't quite notice that at the moment. She knows she must tell him, he will probably find out on his own, but getting him angry doesn't quite appeal to her.

"It's like this.. I kind of.. dyed your sheets pink?"

He doesn't quite know what to say to that, because he hadn't even known it possible to cause so much trouble without any significant material to do so.

He gestures for her to lead., and slowly, she walks with him back to the laundry room.

She was right, the sheets _are_ pink; she has washed the colored and white together.

"I didn't know know they would be stained. Can you fix it?"

He sighs in something very like defeat.

"You've never washed clothes before, have you? "

A small bottle appears in his hand from a nearby shelf.

" This should remove the stain. I want these sheets clean when I see them again, if you wish to remain human. Is that understood, dearie?"

She takes the bottle and examines it carefully, as he disappears in a puff of purple smoke.

He appears behind her as she is hanging up the (mostly) clean linens.

Her curiosity wins out, as always.

"What kind of magic was that? "

" It's a strong and potent magic, known to every sensible maid as bleach!"

A _princess_. What on earth had possessed him?

_You will fetch me fresh straw when_ i _am spinning at the wheel_

Well, atleast he hadn't had to conjure straw into his basket since she arrived.

His supply is always fresh.

Even when he sends her to town to fetch more.

_Oh! And you will skin the children I hunt, for their pelt_

And in the end, it is the result of a quip that is their first step towards each other.

"Its just a cup."

His token, her symbol.

"Quite a sentimental little keepsake, isn't it?"

Their link to each other

"You kept it. My chipped cup."

And the proof of their love.

"Their are many things in this shop. But this is the only thing I truly cherish."


	6. Home

The Dark Castle has always been quiet.

Rumpelstiltskin himself had seldom spent time there, preferring the thrill of deal-making to the dreary halls of his empty home. The place had always been more of a store house for his many possessions, and his lair, so to speak, but it had never been home.

Today the dreary halls of his castle echoed with the sound of singing. The sweet sound seemed to brighten up the place as it filled the castle that had lain silent and undisturbed for centuries.

The sorcerer, with his enhanced hearing, heard the sound from all the way up his tower and almost dropped the vial he was holding in complete surprise. Over the course of the weeks that he had had Belle at the castle, he had slowly gotten used to the silence of his castle being broken often, a soft humming or the sound of movement reaching his ear and informing him of the presence of another living being at his abode. He is sure, however, that that a song had never been heard in the Dark Castle before.

In a puff of purple smoke, he appears in the Great Hall to a scene, which, for a moment, takes his breath away. She stood in the sun, a vision of light and beauty, singing as she puts the room to rights. And she is smiling, And looking every inch the princess she is born to be, even in her simple blue dress, with a duster in hand.

She doesn't belong here. She belongs in at a ball in a gown of cloth of gold, with every young man wishing for a dance with her. She belongs in the village where the people both love and respect her. She belongs with a prince.

The imp was still hasn't quite regained his balance when she turns round and spots him standing there.

And still smiling, asks him if he wants anything.

This was not.. _right_. It was true that Belle was not like other people. The fact that she had never shown him any fear was proof enough of that. It was her duty to serve him.

But she wasn't supposed to smile at him. She wasn't supposed to appear happy at the lair of a beast, a place people spoke of in hushed tones. She was supposed to frown and scream and make demands, so he could enjoy refusing them. She was supposed to sulk and brood and be malicious when she realized just what a monster she has made a deal with. She wasn't supposed to be _happy._

It has always been his job to find out, not only people's secrets, but their loyalties, motives, and intentions. His plans have always been centered on just what people are willing to do to fulfill their desires. But this girl, this odd young creature who will answer any of his questions truthfully, who calls him master, has him baffled.

And so it is that he decides that he has had enough of guessing, and on an impulse, he gives in to his curiosity.

"How miserable are you here, Belle?'

He had not expected it to be a welcome question by any means; she was not a liar, and perhaps she would be afraid to share her true feelings. But her face shows only confusion.

"I..what do you mean?"

He walks towards his usual chair and sits down, and gestures for her to do the same. She perches on the table in front of him, still looking confused. At his gesture, she prepares tea for both of them, and he contemplates her over the rim of his chipped cup, finding another mystery in the fact that this princess, no doubt used to being waited on hand and foot, serves him without so much as a frown to mar her lovely face.

It is he who finally breaks the silence.

"Dearie, I asked you a question."

She simply nods, frowning softly and setting down her cup and saucer safely aside,

''Yes, but I don't understand what caused you to ask it."

It had been weeks since she had stopped crying at night. She wants to know if at is any action of hers that has caused this sincere but unneeded inquiry, before she can answer his question. She knows he has too low an opinion of himself to be remedied by words, but truth will only help.

He scoffs a little at her attempts to spare his feelings, but decides to answer her.

"Dearie, you practically sold yourself to a monster to serve him for eternity and are now stuck here far from family and friends. A princess, serving as the Dark one's maid. Should I ask if you intend to dance with joy?"

She looks at him and sees the anger in his eyes, but it is not directed at her. With a small jolt, she realizes it is directed at himself. For hurting her?

She wants to take away the anger and sadness, to reassure him that it isn't his fault, but she knows that words can only do so much. On an impulse she places her hand over his, and sees his eyes widen in surprise. It breaks her heart every time, this evidence that shows just how long he has been without human contact.

"You're not a monster Rumple. I made my own choice to go with you. You are the only one who ever gave me a choice, and you have given me no reason to regret it.''

"And your home, dearie? You don't miss your family, your friends?"

"Of course I do. But I have a new home now."

The answer makes him raise an eyebrow.

"This is your prison, dearie, not your home."

He accompanies the words with a giggle, but she remains serious, recognizing that he needs an answer to this question, whether he would admit it or not.

She jumps off the table, landing lightly on her feet, and laughs.

"I live here, Rumple. It's my home as much as yours. And I am happy here, in your company."

He looks deep into her eyes then, and she cannot help but think that it is as if he has never seen anything like her before, as if he is searching for a deception but cannot find it.

He disappears in a puff of purple smoke, and both of them are left wondering.


	7. Chapter 7

She won't stop waiting up for him.

Whenever he comes back from a deal, she is waiting in the Great Hall for him, always ready with a cup of tea and a warm smile, no matter how late he arrives. Once, he had entered the castle just as dawn was breaking, and found her barely awake but still downstairs.

Today, he is determined to make sure that doesn't happen. For one thing, the deal is a tricky one, and there is no telling whether he will even come back that night or not.

She is in the library, completely absorbed in a book when he finds her, and she looks up as he enters.

He moves to stand beside the chair she is curled up in.

"Dearie, I'm going deal-making today."

He is always surprised that she doesn't show the happiness she must feel at the news, when she is so transparent in her emotions otherwise.

She looks at him with thoughtful sapphire eyes.

"You'll be back soon?"

He is taken aback by the question but supposes that she would want to know when her relative freedom from him ended and she had to bear the company of the monster once again.

He decides to get to the point.

"I'm not sure. Tonight, maybe tomorrow. Anyhow, you needn't wait up."

She nods, and if he didn't know better, he would have thought she looked sad. Perhaps she wishes he would stay away longer.

She wants to be awake when he comes back, but then she has another idea.

"I'll make you a deal. You tell me whenever you're going to be away, and I won't wait for you this time if you don't want me to."

She is tired of finding him gone and not knowing when he'll be back.

Hmm..she should know better than to escape, by now.

"Deal! I expect to see all your chores done when I come back."

Might as well keep her out of mischief while he's gone.

"Alright. Be safe, Rumpelstiltskin."

"Don't worry, dearie. I always come back in one piece! "

_ _#_ _

After he is gone, she wanders aimlessly through the castle. Her mind will not stay on the book she's trying to read and her thoughts keep straying to Rumpelstiltskin, and when he will be back. She always feels this way when he is gone, tired and sad and missing his company. Idly, she wonders if this is part of his enchantments, the restlessness she feels whenever he is away.

She keeps busy instead, cooking and cleaning and generally completing the work left undone, as the day slowly passes.

After having something to eat in the kitchen rather than the Great Hall, she goes upstairs to try to get some sleep.

_ _#_ _

Rumpelstiltskin ends up in a good mood. The deal has gone well, hardly any problems at all. Looks like he'll be back home sometime tonight after all.

The thought somewhat spoils his good mood. He has told Belle not to wait for him, and she will not be expecting him until tomorrow. Probably celebrating having the castle to herself for a change, content that he is safely away.

Whatever he might say, he does want her to be content. He only wishes she could be so when he is around. But for centuries, people have screamed and cried at his appearance and made motions to ward off evil behind his back. He is a monster, and he'd do well to remember that.

With a small sigh, he teleports back to the castle where, he is sure, his beauty is sleeping contentedly in the knowledge that he is far away.

_ _#_ _

She tosses and turns late into the night before finally accepting the fact that sleep will not come to her tonight. Unable to remain in one place a second longer, she dresses, and wanders through the now-familiar halls and passages until she reaches a part of the castle she hasn't explored yet.

The rooms are the usual collection scattered throughout the castle; she opens doors to storerooms and spare bedrooms, some doors open onto empty hallways, other times she sees rooms filled with enough gold to finance her whole kingdom for a year or ancient and valuable artifacts, all but forgotten by their owner.

And then she opens the last door in the corridor and her eyes widen. She's suddenly glad that he isn't here, because explaining her presence here might be a little awkward.

She has wandered to his bedroom.

The room is not as large as she would have expected, and simply but elegantly decorated in a theme of burgundy and gold. She has never entered someone's bedroom before, and the thought makes her blush. She cannot shake the feeling that, by entering his sanctuary, she is crossing a line..but the room is so _him, and she is so tired_ now, in a way she cannot explain.

She sits down on the bed, and it there, surrounded by his scent, a mixture of leather and woodsmoke and magic, that she falls asleep like a child curled on top of the coverlet.

_ _#_ _

He watches her as she sleeps. She looks so innocent and peaceful, lying there, and an ironic smile makes his lips curl as he imagines her expression were she to wake up right now and see him standing there beside her in the dead of night. He wonders just how she ended up here. How tired she must have been to fall asleep in the beast's lair.

Slowly, gently, he tucks away a loose curl behind her ear, and notices how the dirty mottled green tint of his scales contrasts against her porcelain skin.

Her voice is soft, but the murmur startles him, "Rumpelstiltskin?"

She is still asleep, he notes. And calling his name. Without fear.. but something sad does tinge her voice. Not understanding, not wanting to understand, he turns away.

The night is cold, and he conjures up a blanket over her sleeping form before disappearing from the room, leaving behind the sight he feels he does not deserve to witness.

_ _#_ _

Belle opens her eyes slowly, still half-asleep. She feels warm and content, covered by a blanket, while the morning sunlight dances on her cheek.

Wait. _Morning sunlight?_

She sits up suddenly, the blanket falling away, unable to get her bearings for a moment until the events of the previous night come flooding back to her and a blush colors her cheeks as she looks around.

She's still in Rumpelstiltskin's room where she fell asleep, but someone has covered her with a blanket, and opened the curtains to let in the light. The room is otherwise much the same, except Rumpelstiltskin is perched on the windowsill.

"Ah! So sleeping beauty is awake!"

He drops down to the burgundy carpet, and she clambers out from under the blanket and stands up.

"I'm sorry! I shouldn't have.."

He looks more amused than anything else.

"Quite alright, dearie. Perhaps you could get us some breakfast. It's a little late.."

He doesn't get the chance to say anything more, before she is hugging him. Tightly, as if she never means to let go.

Her voice is muffled as she mutters.

"I missed you."

And then she is gone, and he notices the few tear-marks on his silk shirt.

That night, he falls asleep to the scent of roses.


	8. Chapter 8

"Oh, dearie. I expect I'll never see you again."

And just like that he has let her go. Given her her freedom, let her know that his wrath would not fall on her or her village, were she to leave.

He knows this, yet a foolish part of him, a part he cannot control, believes she will stay. Not because she has to, but by choice.

He forgot though, that he is a villain. And villains don't get happy endings.

Everyone he has loved, he lost.

And, so for once, he crushes his own wishes. Damns the feelings in his heart that can never be returned.

And tells her to go home.

_ _#_ _

And so she walked, and every step brought memories.

Cloaks and fireplaces and reading and kindness, a spinning wheel pausing in it's fastidious cycle. Countless quiet evenings and quips and a rose, a sense of belonging. Questions and smiles and a hug, a library all for her love of books. Conversation and tea, a chipped cup and a blue dress.. Ladders and curtains and light, and a haven in his arms.

He let her go, she has no reason to stay. No village to save or people to protect.

She can go back home.

The home she left without a backward glance. Where the one time she _mattered_ was when she chose to go with _him_. Chose to be a maid over a princess, and _never_ regretted it. Because it was a sacrifice for her people. And then it wasn't a sacrifice at all.

She can go home, where she will be a princess. To be seen, but never heard. Gaston's wife and his pretty bauble to be displayed. Mother to the heir of the throne. Forever pampered, and forever ignored.

What is she thinking? She should be giddy with joy, relieved, and trying to get away from the castle as fast as humanly possible. Thinking about her Papa and the warm welcome she will receive at home. Happy that the _monster_ has let her go.

Instead, for every step she takes, she glances back. At the walls he has erected to keep our the world. The walls she had penetrated, to see the fragile heart he hid within.

And for every step, a heavy burden settles over her heart.

Inside she cries, silently, for the things that should have been.

_ _#_ _

He watches her go from afar, the way he has always watched her.

The only light that has come near him for centuries. And not so willingly.

The only way for him to have the company of a innocent soul like that was to trap her, as he had done. And he has regretted it.

Not because he didn't enjoy her company. No, he hadn't wanted to relish every moment in her presence, done everything he could to stop himself, but she wasn't what he expected. She has wormed her way into his heart, perhaps without even knowing it, by doing nothing but being herself.

In centuries, many had tried. But she is the only one who has tamed the beast. Brought out the man he hadn't believed existed.

After everything he has done to her, she has been nothing but kind to him. Now, it is his turn to return the favour.

She deserves so much more than a life of servitude. So much more than he could ever give her.

And so he lets her go. Even though his heart is breaking inside.

He watches as she glances over her shoulder, perhaps afraid that he would change his mind and drag her back.

And with every step she takes, his heart breaks a little more.


	9. Poetry

Wishes _and_ _dreams_ _and magic,_

 _I_ _know these things_ _are_ _true_

 _I_ _know_ _I_ _knew_ _them_ _all_ ,

 _Once_ , _when_ _I_ _was_ _with_ _you_..

Belle has barely glanced at the first stanza of the poem before her concentration is abruptly broken by a trilling giggle and the book is rather unceremoniously snatched from her hand. The next thing she knows, Rumplestiltskin is staring at the cover and holding the book away from himself in a dramatic show of disgust.

"I give you a whole library, all the knowledge in the world at your disposal, and _this_ is what you choose to read, dearie? And here I was, deluding myself that I had a sensible caretaker!"

She manages to raise an eyebrow even while trying to grab the volume he is holding just out of her reach. "You think I'm sensible?"

She makes another unsuccessful attempt to retrieve her book, but he simply raises it higher. He just _had_ to be a few inches taller than her, didn't he?

" _Thoght."_ he corrects her. "Not after seeing you read _this_." He gives the book a slight shake.

"I found it in _your_ library.", she counters expertly. "Why do you think it so silly, anyway?"

Rumplestiltskin smiles, and there is something in it that reminds her of just how young she is in the eyes of this age-old sorcerer, but a child compared to the centuries he has seen.

"Dearie, the world is a cruel place. And love is only for a precious few. Even then, it is anything but the bed of roses your books make it out to be."

She looks thoughtful and defiant at the same time, as she carefully chooses her words.

"Those who deserve love can always find it."

The conviction in her voice makes him scoff.

"You didn't get _your_ prince. Or knight, whatever."

"Gaston? You think I loved Gaston?"

"Well, unless you have any other handsome admirers I don't know of, then yes I mean your pea-brained knight."

Belle actually looks surprised.

"No, ours was..an arranged marriage. My hand for our kingdom's protection."

She shakes her head, breaking out of the sad memory, and smiles suddenly.

"But then you came, and saved us. "

His expression suudenly turns harsh as he waves a finger in front of her.

"For a price, dearie."

"Yes. All magic comes with a price, after all."

She shrugs. "Yours was a fair one."

"You are a curious girl, do you know that? "

"Belle laughs. "Yes, I do, actually."

Suddenly, she reaches forward, and with one well-aimed grab, she has retrived the book he had unconciously lowered during their conversation and is flipping through the pages to find her place, which, Rumplestiltskin realises, she hes marked with a small bit of his gold. Hi remembers her taking it once, while watching him spin.

Then another thought hits her. "Have you read it? Some of the poems are lovely, you know."

He isn't about to tell her that he has, even if simply because bieng immortal meant you needed more than spinning and deals to make the time pass.

Luckily, he is spared answering by her suddenly shy inquiry.

"I could..read to you?"

He wonders how anyone can say no to this woman, when she gazes at them with such tentatively expectant blue eyes, the expression genuine instead of the faux innocent ones court ladies are so adept at.

Grumbling,, he perches on the place on the setee next to her she is indicating, tense at first but slowly relaxing.

Belle happily picks up the volume and continuous where she left off.

_It seems like only days_

_The memories still so fresh_

_Can it truly be years_

_Since I last saw you.._

So the Dark One allows the princess to soothe him with a voice that could make (though he would never admit this to her) a legal document sound interesting, and verses that speak of love.

And for those few, precious moments, he allows himself to hope.


	10. A Short Trip

"Dearie!" Rumpelstiltskinn calls, looking for his maid, who is, as it appears, currently missing. "Belle!"

She walks into the Great Hall a few moments later, frowning slightly.

"Yes?"she asked, polite as always, but she doesn't conceal the fact that she was busy.

"I'm going on a deal today."he tells her.

She waits patiently for the rest of the story.

"Perhaps you could come with me?"

The smile that slowly spreads acoss her face is her answer.

":*%+!):%(:(

And that is how Belle finds herself in a small town where Rumpelstiltskin's client lives.

He has not allowed her to witness the deal "You wouldnt allow them to make a stupid decision. Bad for my business." She can't argue with that, she'd have advised whoever was making the deal to think it through.

She is glad to be outside, though not for the reasons Rumplestilakin would imagine. She is simply not made to stay inside. Even at home the gardens had been her constant refuge. Before the ogres, that is

He has simply told her to stay close by, so she wandrers around a little before sitting down on a small, broken bench near the paved village square and trying to ignore the gazes fixed on her, preferring to watch the children play, young enough to not yet know the dangers of this world, lost in their own imaginations as they are. In this, she envies them.

As she watches, a young dark-haired boy, no more than seven years years old, falls to the ground and scrapes his knee. Belle automatically rises to help the child, but at the last moment feels Rumplestiltskin's presence behind her.

He places a hand on her arm, restraining her, before turning to walk away. She reluctantly follows, glancing back as she goes. The children have resumed their game and the boy is happily playing, injury forgotten. The sight reassures her and makes her smile.

Turning back, she notices that Rumplestiltskin's hands are clenched into fists, his back rigid with tension. Signs of anger, but he doesn't seem to be angry.

She does not think much of it at the moment, but the thought stays with her as she tries to quell her anger at the glances of pity she is receiving.

Only when they are a safe distance away does Rumpelstiltskin acknowledge her again.

"Well, dearie, I must say, that went well. How about a...vacation, to celebrate? "

"What do you mean ?"she aaks, confused.

"A trip, dearie..if you want. To the beach, perhaps?"

Belle does her level best to remain calm so she wouldn't start jumping up and down as she sorely wants to do.

"You mean it ? Really, you'd take me to the sea ?"

He begins to fidget slightly, not sure how to respond in the face ofher enthusiasm. He won't deny her, though. Even if he had meant it in jest, he would have fulfilled his word at her display of open eagerness. Of course, he knows of her wish to travel, she has spoken of it. And she deserves a reward for taking the time to show him kindness, even if he isn't yet sure what her motives are.

He offers her his arm.

"My lady, " he says in a sweeping bow that Belle finds quite charming. "Shall we?"

Arm in arm, they disppear in a cloud of purple smoke.

-+*''&%+ :+(

Before she even opens her eyes, Belle's senses are assaulted by the sea. The rhythm of waves breaking against the shore echoes in her ears as she recognises the salty tang in the air, slightly familiar from a single previous visit.

Then she opens her eyes. And gasps, almost tumbling forward as Rumplestiltskin steadies her.

Rumplestiltskin has always been one for grand appearances...and here, he has done no less. They have materialised not on the beach, but on a clif above. The cliff falls steeply almost down to the sea, with small strech of sand in between.

Below her, the oceans stetches away as far as the eye can see.

She simply lets it wash over her for a moment, before turning to seek Rumplestiltskin.

He is standing just behind her, and, she can tell,trying to supress a smile at her wonder. No doubt he has seen sights more breathtaking than this one.

She doesn't know that he is, right at that moment, thinking that he has never seen a sight as perfect as this.

He curses the day he'd brought her the dress. Even modest and simple as it is, it suits her beautifully, being the exact shade of her eyes (he'd adamantly denied it being anything but an accident. She didn't need to know he'd threatened the best weavers in the land before giving up and concocting the dye himself) and here in the sunlight, with the wind tugging gently on the chestnut locks lit auburn by the sun, she looks _beautiful_. As she turns to face him, he cannot help notcining that her eyes are the same shade of the sky behind her.

"Could we go down.. Ahh !"

The last is an exclamation of surprise, as she finds herself waist-deep in water before she can finish her sentence, Rumpelstiltskin grinning smugly beside her.

She laughs and splashes so that he is soaked, and with a mock glare from him, she has engaged the Dark One in a water fight.

By the time they emerge from the waves, the sun is low in the sky, and Belle finds herself shivering, though as they walk on to the beach and drop onto the aheet he has summoned, Rumpelstiltskin has dried both their clothes

He waves his hand, a cup of steaming tea appearing for him to sip. The cup is the same chipped one he always uses.

"No fair," Belle accuses, putting aside a seashell she has found into her pocket to glare at him.

He grins and offers her the tea.

She takes the cup from him, startling him too much for him to resist (he'd have conjured another at her word), takes a sip and sighs in contentment, leaving him to stare in fascination at her as she drinks from the same cup as the Dark One as casually as if she did it every day.

"Mmm..you're right. This _is_ delicious _._ "

He rouses himself from his reverie long enough to nod distractedly before going back to staring as soon as her back is safely turned again, her interest absorbed by the breathtaking sunset before her.

"Rumplestiltskin."

She speaks softly, without turning to face him.

"Yes, dearie?"

She hesitates slightly, unsure, then decides she needs to know. This tentetative... _whatever_ they have, that allows him to show her his hidden faces, that has allowed for this little excursion, it depends on his answer, on the trust his truth would imply.

Still, her voice is brittle as she speaks. Fearful of falling into the abyss between them if her words fail to build the bridge she intends, as they so often do.

"Why didn't you help the child? And please don't say it was because you didn't care. I know you wanted to, I could feel it. So..why?"

A rapid series of expressions passes across his face, she recognises surprise, anger, pain, and then a deep, unfathomable sadness in a single backwards glance.

"Ah, still so naive, dearie, after months with the Dark One. What will people say?"

The shrill tone softens into something softer and deeper, much more human, before he continues.

"You tend to forget, dearie, that I have a...reputation. Dark, evil sorcerer, you know. Had I touched the child, or allowed you to do so, they would have thought him bewitched. That ...wouldn't have ended well, trust me."

It is a part of the truth, if not the whole of it, but it is all he can offer at the moment. For now, he hopes it is enough.

He doesn't offer further information, and she doesn't ask, trying to imagine centuries without any human contact. Without someone, _anyone_ to comfort him, to show him any emotion but fear and loathing.

"Oh, _Rumple."_

She grabs him in a hug, too tight to be comfortable, but neither of them can bring themselves to care.

Then she springs back, and a mixture of longing and self-loathing crosses his face before he notices the browm stain seeping into her blue dress from the cup spilt on the ground.

"Oh no."she murmurs, but Rumplestiltskin surprises her by snatching the chipped cup and checking it for any damage. Satisfied, he causes it to disappear in a puff of purple smoke before jumping up himself.

"Time to go, dearie.", he says, almost gently.

Belle suppresses a yawn as she stands.

"Yes, I'm tired. Let's go home."

"Had fun?" he asks offering his hand.

She smiles softly at his doubt and clasps his hand firmly in her own. She had only ever visited the sea once before, and that had been with her mother. She will cherish today's memories as much as those.

"Thank you.," she says simply, "It was one of the best days I ever had."

 _His_ _smile_ , she thinks. _What_ _a_ _perfect ending to a lovely day._

And with that, the Dark One and his maid disappear in a cloud of purple smoke, a seashell pressed firmly in her hand.


End file.
